Married!
by Noah of Literature
Summary: I didn't want this! One minute I'm in church, the next I'm married to a hot guy from an anime! Then I'm rich and famous! HELP! Wake me from this crazy dream!
1. Chapter 1

OWNS NOTHING! Completely haven't slept in five days and thought, "This sounds like a wonderful idea!" Don't hate too much on madness! Love y'all! CrossXOC! Don't like, don't read!

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><p>"Amen." I speak in unison with the congregation at the end of the prayer. Just another simple Sunday in my life as a 16 year old. I turn 17 next month! Yay!<p>

And it's not like I'm Christian. I go to church to keep my crazy-religious grandmother happy. She's the most social butterfly at the church- and the most active participant.

The doors burst in suddenly, and we all jump. Men in black suits with sunglasses over their eyes file in. "Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated." one speaks professionally.

A large hand grabs my shoulder and stands me up. "This one will do." a vaguely familiar, very gruff voice, grunts and I'm pushed towards ten women who immediately whisk me upstairs to the Youth Room. Before I can form any thought, I'm naked and they're rubbing some sort of cream on me. A needle in my arm makes me gasp at the pain. "What the Hell?! Let go!" I pull away, nursing the arm that was stabbed with the shot. "What are you doing?" I hiss angrily at the women.

"The cream will ensure you never have the slightest bit of acne or skin problems ever again, Ma'am." the brunette with the container of cream explains quickly. "The shot is a chemical that will speed up your metabolism perfectly. By the time we finish with the wax that will remove all hair from your body permanently, you will be gorgeously thin and will never gain any weight. Now please let us do our job, Ma'am. We only have thirty minutes to get you ready." Shocked numb, I let them do with my body what they will, not even feeling them pull the strips of waxed cloth from every inch of my body before they put on more cream and then wipe it away. "Now make up." a blonde instructs the others. My brows are plucked and colored in, my eyes are lined and shadowed, completed with mascara. My hair is pulled back- half up in a bun and the rest spilling out and curled into baby ringlets. Jewelry, light and small, is added and then I'm being stuffed into a dress that, at first glance, is way too small for me. But when it fits perfectly like a glove, I feel heat prick at the backs of my eyes. The crowned veil is put on my head, covering my face. They slip three inch stiletto sandals onto my feet and hand me a bouquet of what look like red roses- not like I can tell through the thick veil.

I'm down stairs exactly thirty minutes after I'd gone up. There are two men in black waiting for me. "The swan is ready to fly. Is the eagle at the nest?" one asks into his Bluetooth and I sweatdrop under the veil._ 'Seriously? Do they know how ridiculous they sound?'_ I think to myself.

Wordlessly, they bring me to stand outside the double doors that lead to the sanctuary. My knees are trembling and tears well in my eyes. But despite the sudden turn of events, I can't allow myself to cry.

_**Flashback**_

_"Now_ _Ma'am, this is your wedding to General Marian Cross." the blonde begins, jolting me from my stupor. "The Vatican have witnesses here to see the General married, so make sure you're convincing, okay?" she smiles happily, as if this is normal! "If they think Cross is making you do this against your will, they will stop the wedding and kill everyone who isn't a part of the Black Order, okay?"_

_I choked back a sob, feeling my heart flutter in my chest before breaking._

**_End Flashback_**

The doors open as the Wedding March begins. I step forward alone, my stomach full of butterflies. I look to my left and right and see people I've known forever as they try to see the woman behind the veil. The international students are on my left, and since I'm friends with them, I try for help. _"Please, help me. I don't want this! Help!"_ I whisper in Japanese, barely audible to anyone besides them (since they're the closest) over the music playing. I can't see their faces as I continue walking.

As said, General Marian Cross of the Black Order (HOW DID THE ANIME GET INTO MY WORLD?!) stands to Reverend Cassandra's right- my left.

I stand beside him and all falls silent. Then Cassandra begins to speak. "Friends, family, loved ones, we have gathered in this sacred place of God the Father Almighty to witness to blessed union of this man and this woman in holy matrimony..." Her words and voice fade away as my mind races a mile a minute._ 'This isn't good! What's going to become of me? What of my future- my life?'_

"I do." Cross grumbles just loud enough and coherent enough to be understood by those closest to us- who happened to be the other Exorcists who sit in the first two rows. I blink, coming back to myself.

"And do you, Morgan, take Marian Cross as your lawful husband- to hold and cherish, to love and take care of, to strengthen and ground in all times of need- so long as you both shall live?" Cassandra asks me formally and my mouth instantly feels dry. I swallow a few times. "I do." I answer, surprising myself at how strong I sound. Cassandra nods once. "Will the Ring Bearer please come forth?" I turn to my left to receive my ring from none other that Allen Walker. Cross hastily puts the gold band with it's sparkling diamond on my finger and yanks off his glove to quickly give me his hand. I hesitate for only a moment before deciding to play my part a little to my entertainment.

I take his hand gently. "With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine. With my love, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine." I carefully slip the ring onto his finger as I speak the words confidently, earnestly. I immediately let go, however, and take the smallest step back. My eyes well with tears again, but I fight them as hard as I can.

"Please sign here." I take the pen and deftly fill out my portion of the marriage certificate, feeling my life being sealed away with every letter I write. Cross does so as well. Then Cassandra announces, "Be the power invested in me, by the power of God the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride." That does it. As Cross lifts the veil, I can't bring myself to look him in the eye, a single tear slowly crawling down my cheek. A gloved hand raises my chin and I close my eyes to avoid contact. A pair of rough, warm lips brush lightly against my own and he's gone. I exhale a breath I hadn't known I was holding and open my eyes when I turn to look out over the congregation that applauses awkwardly. I take Cross' offered arm and we walk down the isle, the closest people tossing rice into the air. 'There goes my life.'

A limo waits for us outside. Cross and I sit across from each other, me staring out my window and Cross looking out his, puffing on a cancer stick. After an hour's drive, we're at the airport and on a private place (with several other Exorcists and Generals aboard) to Las Vegas.

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><p><strong>Okay, if you caught the Tim Burton's Corpse Bride reference, I altered it a bit for this story. If you didn't like it, let me know nicely. I've filtered all mean and ugly things some meanies come up with so I won't see it anyways. <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Enjoy!**

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><p>When we touch down in Vegas, I finally emerge from my room in a black cocktail dress with iridescent, rainbow-colored sparkles all over it, complete with matching sparkly heels. I flush slightly, unused to such revealing clothing, but walk confidently off the plane with my head held high.<em> 'Just a little longer, Morgan. Then you can bawl to your heart's content.'<em> I promise myself mentally.

The hotel is totally high class and the moment the men in black (whom I'm guessing are Finders) set our suitcases down, Cross disappears. Probably to drink and flirt with women.

Left alone, I decide that a shower would be best. But I can only move automatically; washing, rinsing, and drying. I change, this time, into a French Lolita dress of a deep, blackish purple. There's matching heels, but I put them beside my chair at the desk. My laptop has been brought here, so I turn it on and spend the ten minutes going through my personally made security to surf the web and catch up a bit on my fanfictions.

About two hours later, the door busts open to make way for Cross to stumble in, covered in four scantily dressed women who are already moaning and rutting against him like the whores they are. My heart aches briefly before I remind myself, _'We're only married for show. I shouldn't care what he does.'_ That in mind, I save my work, turn off my laptop, and put it safely in the locked luggage bag they gave me. Spinning the lock, I grab my shoes and the matching purse for the dress, and slip out unnoticed... I hope.

At the bottom floor, I step out into the casino and look at the colorful lights and people bustling about in blissful ignorance.

"Mrs. Cross!" I cringe, knowing that they're calling to **_me_**. I turn to my left to see two Finders approaching. "Mrs. Cross, if you're going to enjoy the casino, please take this." They hand my a silver credit card. "That has five thousand dollars on it. Please enjoy your honeymoon, Mrs. Cross." They bow and leave, unseeing of my wince at the last sentence._ 'A honeymoon, huh?'_ I go and turn all of it into chips.

I wander about for a bit until I come across Allen at the poker table. Suddenly, a plan lays itself out in my head and I think,_ 'What the Hell. It's not like I'm useful...yet.'_ I approach Allen, who's smiling sweetly. "Allen?" I whisper softly to the whitette, who blinks at me. "Hello, Mrs. Cross. Can I help you?" he inquires politely. If he saw my flinch at him saying my title, he doesn't give anything away. I nod, handing him the chips. "How quickly can you make a million?" I ask seriously. He looks from the chips to me and his smile gets bigger. "Give me thirty minutes."

Fifteen minutes into his game, a Finder steps beside me. "Mrs. Cross, have you seen your husband?" he asks quietly. I frown in what looks like the genuine beginnings of worry. "Um, no, I don't think so. But if you find him, will you inform me? Just so I'm at ease?" I ask earnestly. The Finder nods once. "Yes, Ma'am, we'll make sure of it." he assures me, handing me a small flip phone. "Thank you so much." I smile and wave until he's gone.

At the end of the thirty minutes, Allen has made 1.13 million dollars. "Here you go." he hands me the million, since I don't care for the extra. "Thank you, Allen!" I grin like a happy child before moving away to cash my chips.

The man behind the counter whistles low. "Would you like a suitcase for that, Ma'am?" he asks professionally.

"Yes, please." I answer. "Can I get one that locks?"

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><p><em>"Flight 1998 for Tokyo, Japan is now boarding. Flight 1998 for Tokyo, Japan is now boarding."<em> The woman's voice calls over the intercom and I stand, making my way in line with the rest of the passengers. "First Class passengers, please come to the front." Sighing, I step out of the line and move forward, handing the man my ticket. As I recline in my comfy chair, the weight of everything that's happen weighs heavily on my shoulders. There's a sliver of regret deep inside me for leaving, but I still won't let myself cry.

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><p>It was about three hours after Mrs. Cross' take off that six Finders open the doors to the Cross' honeymoon suite that reveals Marian Cross fucking one unknown woman into the mattress while three more rub against the redhead.<p>

"General Cross! This is absolutely disgraceful!" the only female Finder of the group shouts, rushing forward and yanking the General away from his 'fun' by his ear. "You are a married man, General Cross- and only just today too! Adultery is forbidden on the eyes of God!" she scolds him, fuming. She's unphased by the like of clothing on all five.

"Whoa, wait, you're married?" the blonde slut asks in disgust. "Dude, that's so low- and wrong." the brunette shakes her head, rising and gathering her clothes. The other three follow suit and they leave quickly. "You should be ashamed of yourself! Bedding strangers when your wife isn't around!" she growls when they're gone.

"Come to think of it, where _is_ Mrs. Cross?" one of the males asks aloud. Another dials his cell and holds it to the ear not occupied by a blue tooth. "She isn't answering her phone. Let's go." he grabs the other one who spoke and they leave. General Cross leans back and lights a cigar.

When the Finders follow Mrs. Cross' GPS in her given cellphone, they find it in a trash can down the street from the casino.

"Code Beta-Blue! I repeat, code Beta-Blue!" one Finder shouts into his ear piece. "Mrs. Cross is missing! Mrs. Cross is missing!"

**END CH. 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**Enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>*A LITTLE OVER 2 YEARS LATER*<strong>_

Wow! I didn't expect my life to take such a drastic turn! Let's recap:

After landing in Tokyo, I bought a small condo and began making small investments in companies such as Hasbro, Gonzo, and Funimation. Needless to say, they were doing spectacularly, so my stocks went up. With that money, I began to dabble into the oil, commercial, and import-export industries. Within my first year, I was known across Japan and China. With this influence and wealth, I expanded my investment to other countries- mines in Africa, schools in India- I even have my own team of scientists working on technology that we shouldn't have for decades to come! I also withdrew my United Sates citizenship, so now I belong to no country. If I did, they would usurp my power and use me as a titanium Queen in this topsy-turvy, worldwide game of chess.

Let's just say, the world's economy would probably collapse if I just happened to die or cut off all connections and keep my wealth all to myself.

I also took up three different martial arts!

So that's how I find myself, on the night of my nineteenth birthday in a Caribbean blue, strapless mermaid dress, at a yearly gala held by Hasbro to celebrate another successful year.

**"And we'd like to present our largest investor, Morgan Cross, with this plaque and this crystal statue!" **(A/N: This is Japanese) I give my pageant smile as I am handed the heavy, gold-plated plaque the size of my head and the statue of roses growing upwards in swirling vines as tall as me is place on my right._ 'God, I hate being on spotlight...'_ And, of course, the man is speaking in Japanese.

**"And many of you might not know this, but it is Mrs. Cross' birthday!"** I stiffen, but don't let my smile drop as the CEO of Hasbro turns to me. **"We've all been _dieing_ to know, Morgan, how old are you?"** he inquires, looking me straight in the eye.

But I merely renew my smile full force. _'Might as well tell them.'_ "I'm nineteen years old." I answer in English, but they understood me. The CEO looks taken aback- just a bit. Everyone is quiet.

**"T-that is certainly an excellent feat, Mrs. Cross. Congratulations."** the whole ballroom applauds a little less than enthusiastically. I keep my smile, only a bit softer now.

After THAT awkwardness, music starts up again and I find myself dancing with another investor- a Japanese man in his mid-thirties with a crew cut and unreadable black eyes. We chat idly.

"Mind if I cut in?" a voice I was hoping to never hear again comes from my right. My partner nods and walks off and Cross takes his place. He effortlessly weaves us back among the other dancers.

"What are you doing here?!" I whisper in a low voice, looking around to see who had noticed Cross. Almost everyone that wasn't dancing... **_Ugh._**

"Nineteen, huh? Gotta admit, I thought you were at least twenty to twenty-two." he speaks quietly so that only I can hear him. "I married a seventeen year old..." he sighs.

"Actually, our anniversary was a twenty-seven days ago. You married me at sixteen." I point out rather smugly. He seems uncomfortable with that piece of information, so we lapse into silence.

"Why did you disappear?" he asks halfway through the second dance. I roll my eyes. "I didn't figure that I was very important anymore. The Vatican wanted to see you married, so you made that happen. I'm not an Exorcist, and at them time I wasn't as rich and influential as I am now. I saw no reason to remain in a place where I am not needed." I shrug.

His grip on my left hand and waist tighten. "Do you know how much Hell I've been through since you left? How long I've searched for you?" he hisses in agitation.

I smirk. "Aw. The big bad Cross is finally the Hunter, not the Hunted. How's it feel to be in the same position as the very organization you despise?" I narrow my eyes a bit in wicked glee. "To have to chase and chase and chase and never get anywhere; dead leads, and just when your prey seems within grasp, it's gone again."

His own eye narrows angrily. "We have your sister." he speaks without emotion and I stiffen a bit. "She's outside with Rouvelier's dog and my idiot apprentice. If you don't come with me now, I can't guarantee her safety." I can't tell if he's lying.

"So that's it, isn't it? You guys are so powerless you have to resort to threatening the lives of innocents to get what you want." I murmur, feeling nothing but pity. "They have you bugged and are listening to us, aren't they?" I whisper almost silently. He only nods once. I sigh as the music stops. Wordlessly, he takes my hand and starts to lead me out the back. "No, I have my coat and things up front. It'll look suspicious if I don't leave with them." I tug him along.

**"Ready to leave, Cross-Sama?"** Sakura, the coatroom attendee asks politely. **"You know me, Sakura. I never like to stay very long."** I shrug, an easy smile on my face. She disappears into the back and returns with my white fur coat. It's not real fur, I'm not into that. But it's soft and silky like real fur. I slip it on effortlessly and take my hand purse.** "Have a wonderful evening, Cross-Sama." **she bows. **"You too, Sakura."** I call over my shoulder as we leave.

There's a simple black limo waiting at the foot of the stairs. Nothing like my own white hummer limo that's in front of it. Wordlessly, I walk over to the passenger's seat up front and the chauffeur rolls down the window. "Tskune, take the next few weeks off. You'll be paid during your vacation. Go ahead and go home. I'm sure your wife will be happy to see you." His eyes sparkle and he thanks me profusely before rolling up the window and driving away with a smile plastered on his face.

The limo pulls up to us and the back door opens to reveal Rouvelier. His face has a smug little smirk etched into it. He gestures for me to enter and I do so gracefully, with dignity.

She's not here- my sister. I give the smallest sigh of relief. But Allen and Link are here.

Cross and Rouvelier enter. Cross sits on my right while Allen is on my left. Link and Rouvelier sit across from us.

"So tell us, Mrs. Cross, how's your entrepreneur business going?" Rouvelier begins casually, his cold eyes studying me like some sort of mad scientist with a fascinating specimen.

I relax, making the air around my aloof and condescending. "Such a let down, Rouvelier. To think you don't know how I'm doing after the past two years of spies." I counter just as casually, my eyes narrowing slightly in twisted glee as his face turns a bit red. Allen and Cross' auras show that they're a bit surprised.

"I-it would be a pity if such hard work were to go to waste, don't you agree Mrs. Cross?" he begins again, trying to show that he has the upper hand. Totally not happening.

I swipe Cross' cigar from his hand and take a deep, delicate breath. _'Wow, that's really good. Must be handcrafted in Cuba like I like them.'_ As I exhale the smoke slowly, I speak. "Indeed it would, Rouvelier. But I'm sure you wouldn't want to fuck yourself over that badly to try and prove a point." I answer him.

"Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Cross?" he asks politely, feigning innocence.

"Well," I begin, handing Cross his cigar back and pull out my cellphone, "I could call my secretary and shut down all my deals and current ongoing partnerships. However, that would be fucking over about three-fourth's of the world's economy. The world would fall into a Depression that would take decades- maybe even a little over a century- to recover from." I meet his eyes with my own sharp, smug ones. "And don't think the Order and the Vatican would be unaffected. You have no idea how deeply I've dug my claws into your financial dependency. Should I cut ties with you, you would be under in less than a month." I smile sweetly, unlocking my phone and pressing Kaya's speed dial.

"That won't be necessary, Mrs. Cross." Rouvelier tries to make amends.

"Morgan." I correct him, putting up my phone. "Don't even try and act polite to me if you hate me. It makes me hate you more. Call me Morgan." I cross my legs and arms, my right index finger tapping under my arm that maybe Allen might notice, but that's about it. I put my phone in my breasts, not feeling like being a lady in front of this asshole.

"This is what's going to happen. We're going to stop at my house so I can change into something more suitable for travel because I'll be damned if I get on a plane in this monstrosity." I gesture to my dress. My voice leaves no room for argument. "Ah... of course." Rouvelier forces a smile. I flash my own brilliant, 'glad-you-see-things-my-way' smile that I use when I get what I want in deals.

We arrive at my house- more like mansion- and I'm the first out of the car. "Y'all can wait in the living room." I speak over my shoulder as a maid escorts me to my room.

Cross is right behind us when we get there. I raise a single eyebrow, but don't question it as he follows me into my room.

"Here to make sure I don't escape?" I ask playfully, a little hatefully. He doesn't answer, merely sits on the edge of the bed. I shrug and disappear into my walk-in closet.

I come out in black slacks and a soft pink blouse that buttons up the front. It's got minimal ruffles and is sleeveless, so I throw on a black blazer. My light brown hair cascades down my back in graceful ripples rather than being pinned up like I'd had it for the party. I'm wearing a pair of black sandal heels.

I grab a satchel and put a couple of books in it that are personal favorites of mine. "How good is the plane taking us to London?" I ask as I continue putting in little things like a small bottle of lotion and my phone charger.

"A private jet. Last year's model." Cross grunts, pausing in his puffing of his cancer stick. I frown. "Ew. We'll take my jet." I pull out my phone and press 4 on speed dial. _"Good evening, Mrs. Cross. Where are you planning on heading?"_ a female voice asks me perkily. "Sherry, I want to go to London. I'll be at the airport in an hour or so." I reply. _"Of course! See there, Mrs. Cross!"_ With that, I hang up. "I'm ready to go." I put the satchel over my shoulder and head for the door, Cross rises and follows.

They're waiting at the foot of the stairs. "I'm so sorry, Cross-Sama! They refused to stay in the living room as you instructed!" the maid who was attending them apologizes over and over again. I give her a gentle smile. "It's fine, Hararu. We'll be leaving now anyways." I assure her. "Y-yes Cross-Sama!" she bows and hurries off to find something to do.

"I assume you're ready to go?" Rouvelier asks impatiently. "Of course." I speak innocently. We head outside and back to the limo. "Oh, and I hope you don't mind me taking the liberty of having our transportation ready." I speak nonchalantly as the limo takes off.

"What are you talking about? We have a private jet all ready to go." Link finally speaks. I make a disgusted face. "Sorry, but my jet is way much better. You'll thank me once you're on board."

As it turns out, they were all impressed with my jet.

I had it made to a likeness of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Globemaster. All the technology is completely advanced; print scanners, automatic doors, holograms, the works.

"This is nice." Allen breathes, sitting at one of the couches.

Sherry appears on the wide T.V. "Good evening Mrs. Cross. Are we ready to go?" she inquires politely.

"Ready when you are, Sher." I smile easily.

"Then you better buckle!" she grins and the T.V. turns off.

The men find seats and buckle in while I move over to my hologram table. "What are you-!" Rouvelier stops as the plane begins moving. I press a button that locks my feet in place, as well as wraps a thick metal band around my waist, anchoring me to the table. We quickly ascend and I pull up some graphs in the meantime.

The plane levels out and Sherry is heard over the intercom, _"Safe to explore!"_ I press the same button and my anchors are gone. Cross is immediately beside me. "Just what are you doing?" he asks in a low mumble.

"Checking the sales from the last week." I reply absently, studying the lines and flows and bars. I frown. "Sales have gone down about 8.3% in India..." I dial the speaker on the table. _"Yes Mrs. Cross?"_ A male Indian voice answers respectfully. "Naguro, have you seen last week's sales?" I ask, still looking them over. _"Yes, I did, Mrs. Cross. I faxed that report yesterday when I checked the data, so I don't know why it hasn't reached you until now. But we figured out that the currency has gone down by another 2.6% of it's value. We've fixed the prices accordingly."_ he explains briefly, just like I like it. "Excellent work, Naguro. How about you call in Sharma and take two weeks of paid vacation?" I suggest with a smile. "If I remember correctly, isn't Linaba's birthday in a few days?" I inquire slyly. _"W-why thank you Mrs. Cross! I'll do that right now."_ he hangs up with one last 'thank you'.

"You're too soft on your employees." Rouvelier sniffs dismissively. I shrug. "Maybe. But happy employees are loyal employees who last longer." I answer absently once again. "Mmm..." I chew on my bottom lip. "Everything else looks fine." I wipe the area away before bringing up a webchat with my scientists, all my "guests" standing opposite me and won't be seen save Cross, who is right beside me. "Hey, Mrs. Cross!" my Lead, Daniel, grins at the camera. "Evenin', Daniel. I thought I'd check in to see how your progress is." I smile easily. Did I mention they're in Germany? It's about eight hours behind if it's 2 AM in Japan, it's roughly 6 PM there.

"Oh. Well, we haven't gotten to the full assembly yet, but we finally fixed the bug in the arm!" he grins, stepping aside so I can see his Second, Gwen, holding a left arm that is pale and smooth, almost like it's real. The hand and Gwen both wave at me. I break into a grin and wave back. "I am thoroughly impressed, you guys! And is there an ETA to when Alpha will be finished?" I inquire excitedly. "Eh... where are you now?" Daniel asks. "I'm leaving Tokyo for London we just got into the air about ten minutes ago." I inform him. "Oh, well, we'll probably have 'er all assembled before you touch down!" Daniel grins. "Excellent work. I'm looking forward to this!" I wave once more before hanging up. I relax a little. Everything's still going smoothly.

"Are you done with your frivolous displays?" Rouvelier growls angrily. I frown at him disapprovingly. "I know you guys don't have cool shit like this, and you don't understand my methods or my goals, but why don't you calm the fuck down and learn something? It's bad enough I'm here with you guys when I-" I bring up my calendar, _**"I'M SUPPOSE TO BE IN INDIA FOR SELECTIONS!"**_ I cry in dismay. "We have to go! We have to!" I fret, turning to go tell Sherry that we need to turn around.

"Mrs. Cross, we are heading to London and that's final." Rouvelier states firmly.

I turn to him, eyes wide with horror. _**"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW IMPORTANT THIS IS?! AS MORGAN CROSS, ENTREPRENEUR EXTRAORDINAIRE, I GET FIRST PICK OF THE UNIVERSITY'S GRADUATING CLASS! IF I'M NOT THERE, THEN I LOSE THE BEST! SALES AND PROFITS DROP! I LOSE STATUS! HALF YOUR INCOME DISAPPEARS SHOULD MY ASSETS BEGIN TO DROP! THE WORLD WOULD DISSOLVE INTO AN ECONOMIC DEPRESSION THAT, AS I'VE MENTIONED BEFORE, COULD TAKE UP TO A CENTURY TO RECOVER FROM!"** _I stop, taking a breath. I don't wait for any of them to speak before I'm hurrying away and up to the cockpit.

"Sher, we've got a change of plans. I want us in India by noon." I pop my head into the cockpit. "Roger that, Ma'am!" she grins at me, giving me a thumbs-up. "By the way, who's the readhead hottie?" she inquires, waggling her eyebrows. I give a small, helpless smile. "My husband." I reply before quickly ducking out and hurrying away. "Wait, _what__?!_" I hear her cry, and I giggle to myself as I head back down to the gentlemen.

Rouvelier is seething. "Do you have any idea how much is at stake with this detour?" he hisses furiously. I ignore him, deciding to, instead, head for the private practice room I have for myself. Sherry calls it my 'dance room' since I'm either dancing or doing martial arts in there. Whatever, it's something that I can lock myself in from the inside of and practice in peace.

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><p><span><em><strong>Cross' POV<strong>_

I enter the cockpit to see the woman from the screen behind the wheel. "Mind if I join you?" I grunt, already sitting in the copilot's seat.

She looks over at me. "You're the Boss-Lady's husband, huh?" are the first words out of her mouth. I nod silently, looking out over the clear sky. Well, clear where we are, since we're above the clouds.

"Y'know, she's never actually talked about you." she speaks casually, a little softly. "She seemed to deflect all questions about her husband and other things related to marriage. But if it did slip into her conversation, she always had a sad twinkle in her eye." That makes my heart clench a little. Why was she sad?_ That's stupid- why shouldn't she be sad? I took her form her home, married her at such a young age; I ruined whatever future she had planned out. _

I never even told her I loved her- which I admittedly do, oddly enough.

"Why are you telling me this?" I grunt out, still not looking at the woman beside me.

"Because I'm her only friend in this world now. And if you hurt her anymore than she already is, shattering her already fragile state completely, I will personally hunt you down and kill you." she answers nonchalantly, but I can hear the sweet smile- I don't need to see it.

"Sure." I grunt again, giving an air of boredom like I don't care. I rise and leave the cockpit, the thoughts in my mind rather depressing.

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><p><span><em><strong>Morgan's POV<strong>_

When I finally come out, sweating and panting, Rouvelier and Link looked shocked while Allen looks concerned. "A-are you alright Mrs.- ah, Morgan?" Allen inquires in genuine worry.

"Peachy-keen, Allen." I breathe heavily, making my way to my room.

Cross is in there, reading one of my books and sipping on a glass of wine he undoubtedly found behind the bar. I stop for a moment, do a double-take, and head past him to my bathroom. Locking the door, I take a quick, cold shower, washing the sweat from my body. The cool water is soothing on my over-heated muscles and I let a sigh of relief slip past my lips as the tension seems to rinse away with the soap.

When I step out, I shiver, drying myself to the best of my abilities before stepping into my room, towel around my body.

Cross is still there, this time lying on the bed, still reading the same book. The empty glass stands on the beside table innocently. Ignoring him, I walk over to my closet. I pick out a pair of black slacks, a royal blue button-up blouse with a black tank top, and then my (thankfully plain black) bra and panties.

As I let the towel drop from me, a set of arms wrap around my waist, making me jump slightly. "Shh." Cross coos in my left ear softly. I remain rigid, ready to defend myself should he try and force anything on me. "I just want to talk without the three idiots listening." he murmurs.

"Then let me finish dressing." I hiss quietly. He's quiet for a moment before he releases me, stepping back. "Be slow. Gives us a reason not to let them in if they come knocking." he mumbles as he sits on the edge of the bed.

I slip on my undies before crossing my arms over my (admittedly small) breasts and glare at him, unphased that he's looking me over. "What do you want to talk about?" I growl softly.

"Getting divorced." he replies point-blank. I blink rapidly, my surprised lasting only a few seconds before I school myself. "Will your _"Holy Church"_ allow that?" I spit the two words in disgust.

"If we make it convincing. I did, technically, commit adultery on our honeymoon. That gives you all rights to divorce me." he explains nonchalantly, leaning back a bit.

I remain quiet as I slip on my bra, clicking it slowly. When I finish, "Is this what you want?"

He seems genuinely surprised by the question. What, did he expect me to jump up and down with glee at his proposal and be like, _"That's__ so wonderful, let's do that now!"_ Uh, no. There's gotta be a catch.

"Isn't it what _you_ want?" he flips the question to me. Might as well be truthful.

I shrug. "It's not hurting me financially or socially. It keeps away creeps, it's keeping the Vatican out of your hair- as much." I shrug again as I put on the tank top. "I don't see why we should get divorced. I'm fine where I am right now. But if there's someone else, or you don't like the "obligation" of being married, I won't stop you." I answer._ 'Because I honestly, I really love you, but I don't like being selfish so your happiness comes before my own- everyone's happiness comes before my own every time. That's just how I am.'_ I confess to myself, keeping back a blush.

He stands, looking down at me by about five inches. "You didn't answer my question." he rumbles.

"You didn't answer mine either." I retort without hesitation.

"You are infuriatingly adorable." he growls, taking a step forward. _'Wait, what?'_

"You're damnably hot." I reply evenly, taking a step of my own. _'Shit, did I just say that out loud?!'_

"Temptation with breasts." he snarls huskily, taking another step._ 'Oh fuck...'_

"Sin with a dick." I retort, taking a step closer so that our bodies are barely touching._ 'This is bad! This is so bad!'_

A hand tangles into my damp hair and his lips crash onto mine. It's messy, since I've never really been kissed before our wedding, and I let him take the lead without even really trying. No use in fighting a battle when I have no idea how to play.

We part after what seems like hours for breath. I give a breathy giggle. "So does this answer your divorce proposal, _General_?" I whisper in my own slightly husky tone, nibbling on his lower lip without really thinking.

Loud banging on my door ruins our moment. "General Cross, are you in there?! Open this door immediately!" Link demands in agitation.

"Open that door and I'll shave your head myself." I growl out. "I'm dressing and I will personally castrate anyone who see's me naked who doesn't have a _'right'_ to." I threaten loud and clear. The banging stops. "I'll wait right here until you're done then, Mrs. Cross." Link sniffs. I shrug, moving away from Cross and finishing my dressing. Cross watches me intently, for whatever reason I don't know. When I'm done, I put my hair up into a tight bun before opening the door to be room. Link glowers at me silently. I flash him a grin before walking past him and back out into the 'lobby' as I call it.

Rouvelier looks like he's having an aneurysm . Allen is playing with Timcanpy. Both look up as I appear. "We should be in India by noon." I speak blankly, making my way over to the bar.

"It's a bit early in your years to begin drinking, isn't it Mrs. Cross?" Rouvelier asks a little spitefully.

I shrug. "I have no nationality, no citizenship to any country in the world. I can do whatever I damn well please." I pour the scotch over the ice cubes. "Plus, you're giving me a headache." I take a big gulp of my drink, feeling the heat pool in my stomach with the iced liquid and it's a wonderful combo. I try to suppress a shiver and fail. I pour another glass.

Cross and Link appear and I offer Cross the other glass, which he takes with a grateful gleam in his eye. "If I didn't know any better, Master, I'd say you found the perfect wife." Allen comments a bit uneasily. "Got a problem with that, idiot apprentice?" Cross growls, glaring at Allen. "Ah, n-no M-Master! Not a-at all!" Allen assures Cross in a loud voice due to nervousness. I hide my own smirk behind my glass as I finish off my drink.


End file.
